New Perspective
by Bailation
Summary: At Shell Cottage, Ron and Hermione talk about Hermione's tranformation into Bellatrix Lestrange and the torture she's already had to endure because of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eater. Post Malfoy Manor.


The red sun was slowly sinking over the sparkling water as the orange and violet sky faded to black. Ron stood in the room he and Harry were sharing in Shell Cottage as he watched the world outside. It was only a few days ago when he, Harry, and Hermione had Apparated to Bill and Fleur's from Malfoy Manor. Currently, Luna and Dean were outside, walking the shoreline of the ocean as the water washed up onto the sand at their feet. Harry was downstairs, talking with Bill and Fleur about their next move, which they already had planned out. Of course, he wasn't explaining every detail, as they couldn't reveal anything about the Horcrux Hunt.

Though it was late in the afternoon, Hermione had retreated to the room she shared with Luna to take a nap. She was still recovering from her torture, and though she constantly told Ron she was fine, he knew she was still both physically and emotionally drained.

Thinking of Hermione reminded him of their new plan to get the next Horcrux. The way she had so willingly volunteered to disguise as Bellatrix Lestrange deeply disturbed him. He knew she only had put on a brave face so they could forget about the Malfoy Manor incident and focus on what they need to do to defeat Voldemort. However, Ron knew he would never forget that night, no matter how many times Hermione struggled to make him disregard it.

Ron sighed as he left the room and stopped at the end of the hallway. Two rooms down from his, the door to Hermione's room was cracked open slightly, and he could see part of her sleeping face on the pillow from where he was standing.

As if by instinct, Ron cautiously tiptoed toward her room. He pushed lightly on the door to crack it open only an inch more without waking Hermione. He knew all three of them had become very light sleepers; it seemed even in their sleep they were on edge and had to be on watch at all times.

He smiled as he studied her sleeping face. He had watched her sleep countless times over the last few months, but he still remembered the first time he had seen her asleep.

He had entered the Gryffindor common room in third year, and had seen her asleep on top of her Charms essay at a table close to the girl's dorm with about forty books surrounding her. At the time, he had never seen her look so peaceful and so free of worries. Though she had been extremely stressed about her schoolwork, it didn't show in her sleep.

However, as Ron watched her now, he noticed her expression had changed quite a lot since that first encounter. Her eyebrows were furrowed into permanent worried appearance, while her lips were turned down into a frown. Her overall expression looked disturbed and restless, even though she had been sleeping for hours. Her chest rose steadily as he listened to her soft breathing. He relished in that sound, because it was a constant reminder that she was still alive.

He smiled at her before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning away. He wandered back down the corridor with a slight grin on his face as he thought of Hermione.

Downstairs, he bypassed Bill, Fleur and Harry, who hadn't heard him on the stairs, and opened the back door to walk down to the water.

The sun was now almost halfway beneath the horizon, and it would no doubt be pitch black in a matter of a half an hour. Luna and Dean were now making their way back up to the Cottage, which Ron was partly grateful for. He felt that he needed to be alone with his thoughts for a few minutes.

He sat down on the sand, just a few feet from the water and stared out at the sun, thinking of Hermione once more. How would she cope with this new plan of theirs? He knew her confidence and courage to face being Bellatrix was only a phase; eventually, her emotions would finally pour out, whether it was after or before they put the plan into action.

Footsteps behind him pulled him swiftly from his thoughts. By the sound of them, he could guess who it was.

Hermione sat down next to him, her arms wrapped around herself in the cold evening air. She wore jeans and one of the sweaters he had gotten from his mother for Christmas in the last few years. In the few months they had been on the Hunt, she had begun to throw on whatever extra layers she could find during the freezing winter months. On many of these occasions, she would pull on one of his sweaters or jumpers. She insisted it was because they were sometimes the first thing she grabbed out of her beaded bag, but for some reason, Ron knew it had to be more. No matter what it was, he knew he rather liked seeing her in his clothes.

Upon seeing her, he immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, how are you?" He still felt nervous about asking her, as if she would burst into tears like she had when she had woken up from unconsciousness after her torture. He hated to see her upset more than anything, and every time he did, he wanted to hold onto her and never let her go.

"I'm fine," she told him, smiling up at him. But the smile quickly evaporated as she leaned her head on his shoulder, and he studied her face carefully. There was a sudden sadness in her eyes, and it greatly concerned Ron. He was extremely worried for her mental health. Though she hadn't showed any signs of madness, she still had been tremendously unlike herself for the last few days, which scared him to no end.

He turned his body slightly so he could see her more clearly, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

She looked at him with surprised, sad brown eyes. "N-Nothing, Ron, I'm fine –"

"I think you know that I know that that's a load of bullocks. Do you really think I don't know when you're upset after knowing you for nearly seven years?"

She was avoiding his eyes, so he gently tilted her chin so she was forced to look at him. "C'mon, Hermione, just tell me what's bothering you."

Hermione's eyes suddenly filled with tears, but she quickly wiped them away, clearly hoping he wouldn't see. However, she didn't seem to know how observant he was when it came to her emotions. He moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. She squeezed him back and sighed wearily into his chest.

"I'm so afraid."

Ron almost sobbed at the sound of her voice; she sounded so broken and defeated. But he simply swallowed his tears and said, "Don't be. You have me and Harry. We're not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."

He felt her lips turn upwards slightly against his neck, and he knew she was grateful. There was silence, and she finally spoke. "I know that. But that's not why I'm afraid."

She sobbed and sniffed loudly against his skin. "I'm scared to be her. I'm afraid of what being her will do to me, mentally."

Realization struck Ron, and he pulled back from her so he could look into her eyes. "Hermione, what are you saying? Are you saying…are you afraid that being her will make you turn _into_ her?"

Hermione looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and nodded. Ron couldn't believe her. He sighed as he pulled her closer, if that was even possible, and boldly swung her legs into his lap. She looked up into his eyes with surprise, but he made sure she didn't look away. She needed to hear what he had to say.

"Listen to me, Hermione. Nothing you could _ever_ do would ever put you on the same level as her. You weren't born that way, and you can't be transformed into someone like that, either. You're too good." He carefully brushed a hand across her face, tracing her cheek, and creating a trail of goose bumps on the path he had left. His hand found her hair, and he stroked it back behind her ear so he could properly see her face. She leaned her head onto his shoulder as he continued to stroke her hair. He could feel her lips against his neck once more, and this seemingly innocent touch was making him extremely nervous. He felt his breath hitch as her lips tickled his skin and he heard her voice against his neck:

"Thank you, Ron."

He grinned faintly at the gratitude he heard in her voice. He moved his face only slightly to gently kiss her forehead, something he had begun to do ever since her torture. It comforted him and reminded him that she was still alive, and Hermione didn't seem to mind.

They sat in silence for what felt like forever, listening to the waves lap up against the shore as the sky grew darker, Ron clutching Hermione's shoulders as she hugged his waist.

Once it had grown so dark that he couldn't even see her anymore, he sighed and traced his hand down her arm until he found her hand. He interlaced their fingers and gently squeezed her hand. He stared down at her shape as he struggled to make her dark outline.

"D'you want to go back inside?" he asked, suddenly feeling like he needed to see her face clearly again in order to talk to her.

She must have nodded, because he felt the weight of her legs leave his lap as she stood up next to him, pulling him to his feet. His arm found her shoulders once more as they walked up the steep hill back up to Shell Cottage. Her frame felt so frail and physically beaten down. He wished he could simply lift her troubles away, and more than anything, he wished she didn't have to become Bellatrix Lestrange in order for them to get the next Horcrux.

As they entered the small home, he suddenly had the need to speak to her, to let her know she was going to be alright, and that he would go to the ends of the earth if it guaranteed her safety.

They walked swiftly past the living room, where most of the Shell Cottage inhabitants were now located, and Ron led her to the back of the Cottage, where he opened the door to the room he and Harry shared, and allowed Hermione entrance, shutting the door behind the both of them.

She sat down on his bed, looking up at him with startled brown eyes. She had clearly noticed how urgently he wanted to talk to her. "Ron, what's wrong?"

"You have to know something." He approached her quickly and kneeled at her feet, looking up at her as he placed his hands on her knees.

"You don't have to do this."

Hermione's eyes snapped up at him, the brown irises widening as they stared incredulously at him. "Ron, what do you mean…?"

"You don't have to turn into…her." He swallowed as he remembered the pain of being separated from Hermione at Malfoy Manor. "We'll find another way of getting into her vault…or maybe me or Harry could turn into her…"

"No, Ron," said Hermione, her curls shaking as she frantically shook her head. "I have to do this. It has to be me –"

"Hermione, it's perfectly understandable that you don't want to –"

"Ron, listen to me!" Impatient tears were now falling down her face, and he regretted, for the thousandth time, making her upset. "I _have_ to do this, Ron! I'm not going to enjoy it, and Merlin knows I don't want to, but it's the only way I'm going to overcome what she did to me."

Ron frowned as he stroked a thumb across her face to catch the falling tears. "What do you mean?"

Hermione huffed. "For the past few days, I've just been moping around and feeling sorry for myself, and that's the last thing we need right now –"

"–because you've just been bloody tortured!"

"– And that's in the past!" Hermione burst out angrily. "Ron, you can't honestly understand why I would be acting like this when we need to focus on our next move!"

Ron glared at her, amazed at the amount of belittlement she threw at herself. "Of course I bloody well, understand, Hermione! You've just been tortured, and I find it amazing that you can even _think_ about what we're going to do next! If I were you, the Hunt would be the last thing on my mind."

Hermione glared at him for a few moments, finally looking furiously away. She finally spoke with her eyes on the floor:

"I have to do this, Ron. It's the only way I'm going to get past what she did to me. I – If I see the world from her point of view, maybe I'll see why she has such an evil, heartless soul."

Ron stared at her intently. At first, he thought this theory was ridiculous. The woman was an evil, ruthless bitch, and there was nothing deeper than that. She had created herself that way.

But as his eyes raked over Hermione's broken form as he thought about it, he decided maybe she had a point. It wasn't like she was taking the easy way out; her decision was definitely one for which he had to admire her. Even after all the horrors she had been through, she still was willing to carry on.

Finally, after what felt like days, he rose from the floor in front of her and sat down on the bed next to her. He cautiously wrapped his arms around her, and to his surprise, she fell back against him, using his body as a support system for her emotions. He leaned over her, moving his lips so close to her ear that they were almost touching.

"Hermione, you are so brave. You're the most courageous woman I know. I would never be able to do what you're doing, and you're right. You do have to get past this, and if this is the way that you need to do it…then…well…I'm going to support you."

Hermione smiled broadly and Ron felt like his whole world had lit up. He gently hugged her, so as not to hurt her, because he knew she still hurt in some places from her torture. Over her shoulder, he said, "And please, don't think that you have to forget that night altogether, because I know that I'm never going to. I don't want you to bottle it all up and it to suddenly explode out of you one day –"

Hermione drew back from him and interrupted him, "Ron I know. I promise you, I won't. I don't have a reason to forget it; because it was the night you saved me. I'll never forget what you've done for me."

Ron felt his ears begin to burn, and he knew she must've seen because she laughed out loud for the first time in weeks. He swore he had never heard anything so beautiful.

He watched as her laugh turned into a yawn, and he chuckled slightly. "You tired?"

"Profoundly. I think I'll go to bed –" She stood up and started for the door, but Ron caught her hand.

"Wait!" She looked round at him, and he met her eyes. "Why don't you stay in here tonight?"

She bit her lip as she tried to keep from smiling. "What about Harry?"

Ron shrugged. "He'll figure it out. I just – I need you to stay."

To his surprise, she didn't argue. He pulled back the covers of his bed and gestured for her to get in. She smiled and crawled under the sheets. He crawled in next to her and draped an arm around her waist securely. She snuggled into his chest and he soon felt her slow breathing against his neck as she fell asleep. He slowly stroked her hair until he felt like he too was going to fall into unconsciousness, and before he did, he tenderly kissed her forehead and mumbled, "I love you, Hermione."

For a moment, he swore he felt her smile against his neck.


End file.
